


But Care Is Constant

by windymoors



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aftercare, Asexual Aziraphale (Good Omens), Asexual Crowley (Good Omens), Asexual Relationship, Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Bondage, Caring Aziraphale (Good Omens), Communication, Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Dom Aziraphale (Good Omens), Established Relationship, Gentle Dom Aziraphale (Good Omens), M/M, No Sex, No Smut, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Non-Sexual Kink, Non-Sexual Submission, Panic Attacks, Safeword Use, Sub Crowley (Good Omens), Subspace, Trust, at least sort of, its all okay and very soft though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-15 13:22:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28814103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/windymoors/pseuds/windymoors
Summary: “I have an idea.”Crowley looked down at the blond head resting against his chest. “Oh, do you?”“Yes,” Aziraphale said. “I think you’ll like it. It involves rope.”“Say no more.”
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 90





	But Care Is Constant

**Author's Note:**

> I am back with more soft, non-sexual kink for all who are interested! I quite like this one and hope you do too. 
> 
> A warning (and slight spoiler): this fic does include a brief panic attack of sorts, so if that is likely to bother you, be careful. The trust and care and communication never wavers, because it's me writing this, and everything is okay after a minute, but I wanted to mention it.

“I have an idea.”

Crowley looked down at the blond head resting against his chest. “Oh, do you?”

“Yes,” Aziraphale said. “I think you’ll like it.”

“Will I now?”

“Yes,” Aziraphale said again, and shifted so he could look up at Crowley. “It’s a scene idea.”

Now Crowley was  _ really _ interested. “Oh?”

“It involves rope.”

“Say no more.”

Aziraphale grinned. “You are so easily convinced.”

“In your case, yes. Am I right in suspecting you have a plan to go with this idea?”

Aziraphale’s smile turned slightly self-conscious. “Perhaps.”

“Do I get to hear it? Or are you going to surprise me?”

Aziraphale contemplated this for a minute. “Do you have a preference?”

“Details surprise,” Crowley said promptly. “I already know it ‘involves rope’. Is there something else I should know?”

“How do you feel about angelic runes?”

Crowley blinked several times, not entirely sure how to respond to that.

“Assuming they wouldn’t hurt you or make you do anything against your will,” Aziraphale clarified. “And they’re tied to me, not Heaven or anything.”

“I take it they’re involved in your plan?” Crowley asked.

“At the moment, yes. They’ll only stay there if you’re interested, though. I have other options.”

Crowley thought it through. Then he thought it through again. Finally he said, “No screwing with my will? At all?”

“No,” Aziraphale said, so positively that Crowley could tell he’d made very certain of that already. “They will not affect your actions or anything that you set in place.”

“Then okay,” Crowley said. He squeezed Aziraphale briefly. “Because it’s you.”

Aziraphale was silent for a moment, and Crowley could see his eyes getting a little misty. Crowley held him close, knowing what he was reacting to. Crowley, for his part, was not used to trusting, especially at anything approaching this level. He knew Aziraphale was equally unused to being trusted to that same extent.

“I think it sounds like a great idea,” Crowley said, after they’d had their moment. “Do you have a time in mind?”

“Are you up for today?” Aziraphale suggested. “Any time works, really.”

“Sure. Maybe a little later, though? I’m really enjoying sitting here.”

“I’ll read another chapter, then.”

“Or two, or three…”

“Oh, hush, you!”

Crowley laughed and settled a little deeper into the sofa.

~

“Lie down on the bed.”

Crowley, who had been about to do just that, stopped just short of the indicated piece of furniture and turned to look at Aziraphale. “Make me.”

Aziraphale stopped in the doorway and folded his hands. “What’s our safeword?”

“Dolphin,” Crowley said readily. He propped a hand on the footboard and attempted a nonchalant lean. “What is it?”

“Dolphin,” Aziraphale replied. He smiled before crossing the small distance between them and looking directly into Crowley’s face. “Lie down on the bed, Crowley.”

Crowley sat down and scooted until he was sitting in the middle of the bed. Aziraphale gave him a calculating look and followed. 

“So that’s how it is, is it?” he said, and gave Crowley’s chest a gentle push. Crowley went willingly, settling into the mattress, but Aziraphale’s hand stayed on his chest, weighty enough that he could tell Aziraphale was putting some actual thought into it. 

“Are you going to stay now?”

“You haven’t told me to,” Crowley pointed out.

Aziraphale pressed him a little more firmly into the bed. “Stay here while I get something.”

“I’ll consider it.”

“Consider it while staying here.” Aziraphale’s hand left Crowley’s chest and the angel slid back off the bed.

Crowley rolled slightly sideways so he could watch Aziraphale, but he didn’t sit back up. “What are you doing?”

Aziraphale, who had been rummaging in the dresser, turned back to Crowley with a handful of black fabric. “I thought you might want more comfortable clothes.”

“You thought well.”

“Well,” Aziraphale said, coming back to perch on the edge of the bed. “I’m very glad to hear that. Here, you can change if you’d like.”

Crowley took the offered outfit, pondered for a moment, and snapped. The fabric in his hand disappeared, as did his jeans, and he found himself wearing capri-length stretchy pants and a fresh t-shirt, both with the telltale feel of something that had been made by humans, not simply miracled into being. “Good choice.”

Aziraphale smiled and climbed further onto the bed.  _ “Now _ will you lie down?”

“I am already,” Crowley pointed out, still propped on his side.

“You are,” Aziraphale said, pushing Crowley once more to lie on his back, “completely incorrigible.”

“Absolutely,” Crowley agreed, and grinned up at his partner. 

“Something clearly needs to be done,” Aziraphale continued, and conjured a skein of rope. 

Crowley’s eyes latched instantly onto it. Aziraphale followed his gaze and smiled, looking very pleased with himself. Then he picked up Crowley’s near hand, laid it almost reverentially in his lap, and drew the rope across Crowley’s wrist.

Crowley felt his snark and playful resistance begin to melt and fade. Aziraphale had a plan, and Aziraphale with a plan was always fun to watch. Even better, this particular plan seemed to center quite decidedly on Crowley. That was fine. It was  _ good. _

Aziraphale wove the rope in and around itself until Crowley’s wrist was encased in a comfortably snug web. Then he lifted the newly bound arm above Crowley’s head until Crowley felt his fingers brush one of the bars of the pillared headboard. 

“Is the angle all right?” Aziraphale asked.

Crowley wiggled his shoulder to check. “Yeah.”

Aziraphale nodded acknowledgement. “Bring your other hand up here.”

Crowley did, feeling Aziraphale catch it and begin to repeat the process with the rope. He closed his eyes, letting his attention rest on the slow, assured movement above him. 

The bed moved as Aziraphale sat back. “There.”

Crowley opened his eyes and gave Aziraphale an amused look. “Is this it?”

Aziraphale mirrored the look. “Not even close.”

Crowley grinned and shifted experimentally. As he did, the rope on his wrists tugged. Craning his neck upwards, he could see that the loose rope in between them was woven once behind one of the poles of the headboard, keeping his hands where Aziraphale had put them. 

“Lie flat,” Aziraphale said, and Crowley unbent his neck to see the angel with an armful of foam blocks. Once Crowley stopped moving, Aziraphale began to place the blocks on the bed around his feet, like a fortress wall. 

“Now,” Aziraphale said when he finished, “I don’t want those to move, you understand? They stay right there unless I move them.”

Crowley nodded. It wasn’t a new concept. After learning the hard way that being fully tied down absolutely didn’t work for him, they had gotten creative. Things like this, where Crowley wasn’t supposed to move, even had a physical incentive not to, but wasn’t actually restrained. 

“You understand?” Aziraphale asked again. Checking in. Waiting for the go-ahead.

“Yes,” Crowley said.

“Good.” Aziraphale reached over to the bedside table and picked up a small bag. “Now we’ll play a game.”

“I can’t help but feel I’m at a slight disadvantage here,” Crowley commented. 

“Don’t worry.” Aziraphale grinned. “It’s designed for the circumstances.”

And didn’t  _ that _ sound ominous, albeit in the best of ways. A tingle went down Crowley’s spine.

“It’s very simple, really,” Aziraphale continued, opening the bag. “It’s like a charm bracelet, only you won’t have all the charms to start with.”

“Charm bracelets aren’t really my style, angel.”

Aziraphale paused, a question in his eyes, and Crowley hastily added, “Might as well try it out, though.”

The smile came back. “There’s a first time for everything, after all,” Aziraphale said wisely.

The first thing to come out of the bag was a cord with a simple clasp, which Aziraphale fastened around Crowley’s upper arm. Then he brought out a large bead that Crowley thought was made of plastic, or maybe ceramic. It was etched with decidedly non-human shapes. Crowley felt something light and nervous and excited settle in his chest. 

“All you have to do is pick up the beads,” Aziraphale explained. “Once you get one, I’ll add it to the string.”

“What’s the catch?” Crowley asked, though he had a suspicion.

Aziraphale looked very pleased with himself. “I get to place them first. And you’re slightly encumbered, if you hadn’t noticed.”

Crowley might have asked if he could use miracles, but the answer was so obviously “no” that he didn’t bother. Instead, he stretched his fingers toward the bead Aziraphale was holding, dangling just a few inches away as the angel explained his plan. 

He didn’t even brush it before Aziraphale moved his hand away. “Patience, my dear.”

“‘M not good at patient.”

“You can be,” Aziraphale said, with the calm self-assurance that Crowley loved. 

Crowley wiggled his fingers ineffectually in the direction of the bead. Aziraphale held it back, eyebrows slightly raised, until Crowley gave up and went still. 

“Very good,” Aziraphale said after a few seconds.

Crowley caught the tip of his tongue lightly between his teeth and let the butterflies in his stomach have their party. 

Aziraphale shifted forward and extended his arm until the hand holding the bead was just a few inches from Crowley’s left hand. 

Crowley watched it with one eye and Aziraphale with the other.

“Now you may pick it up,” Aziraphale said.

Crowley let his arms fall to the left and felt the smooth, cool surface of his target, held lightly in Aziraphale’s fingers. Ceramic, it seemed like. Definitely not plastic. He grasped it and pulled it out of Aziraphale’s hand. 

“One down,” Aziraphale said, sounding pleased. “Here, I’ll put it on the cord.”

“I just got it away from you,” Crowley protested, but he relinquished his prize. 

Aziraphale unclasped the cord on Crowley’s arm and slid the bead on. Crowley focused on the spot for a minute, but he didn’t feel anything worrying. He didn’t feel anything from it at all. 

Aziraphale had been careful. Aziraphale had made sure this was safe. It was all right.

Crowley watched as Aziraphale withdrew another bead from the bag. He held this one to the left, too, only farther away. Crowley had to calculate a little more carefully to get it.

One above him, next, and then to the right, and above again. Crowley fell into the rhythm of pulling and twisting and bending to get at the beads that Aziraphale somehow kept managing to place just close enough for Crowley to reach, yet far enough away that each one seemed nearly impossible until he got it. He felt his focus narrowing, until there was nothing left but the beads that he was plucking out of the air and Aziraphale’s soft words of praise each time he got one. 

He was going after a particularly tricky one when his gaze crossed his own torso and snagged on something there. The hem of his shirt was white. 

No. The hem of his shirt was tartan. Aziraphale’s tartan. 

The focus switched abruptly away from the bead and to his clothes, the black now highlighted with artful patches of tartan. He sucked in a breath. 

_ No screwing with my will? At all? _

Crowley hadn’t made these clothes. Aziraphale had bought them, the human way. Aziraphale had planned this, in meticulous detail, to make sure that it never crossed Crowley’s boundaries. 

Aziraphale had planned to slowly alter what Crowley was wearing, in the most insignificant significant way. Even better, Crowley was the one really doing it, collecting the beads, the runes, and why? Because Aziraphale told him to, and made an environment where he could do so, and do it safely.

Aziraphale was closer now, leaning over him. “Crowley? Are you all right?”

Crowley tore his eyes away from his shirt hem and looked up at Aziraphale. He grinned. “Love you so much.”

“I love you too, darling,” Aziraphale answered, relaxing a bit. “Now answer the question.”

Crowley took a deep breath and sighed. “‘M good. Got surprised is all. Good surprised. More?”

“Of course.” Aziraphale pulled out a bead, and Crowley’s focus snapped to it without hesitation. The game was on.

It was mesmerizing. Crowley reached and bent and caught relentlessly. Sometimes Aziraphale would choose a spot that made him stop for a moment and consider, plan out the movements to best reach his goal. Sometimes he had the bead almost before Aziraphale finished placing it. Twice he nearly kicked a foot for balance, a movement quickly aborted when his foot brushed one of the barrier blocks.

None of them fell. 

The bracelet — armband, rather — began to grow heavy with beads. Sometimes Crowley would glance down at the slowly spreading lightness on his clothes before reaching out to catch another bead. He wanted to know how many there were. He wanted to know what would happen when he got them all. He wanted to play this challenge Aziraphale had set for him, and he wanted to finish it. 

The armband was really very heavy now, weighing down his upper arm. He shifted his consciousness to it, the comfortable sensation of weight and coolness, but his thoughts slipped away. It was like he was half-asleep, only at the same time his mind was wide awake, tracking the new bead Aziraphale had just brought out of the bag.

A cold feeling exploded in his chest, some part of his mind warning him that this was wrong,  _ wrong, you’re caught in an angelic miracle, why can’t you think, this is wrong, wrong- _

No. Aziraphale had been careful. Aziraphale said nothing would touch his mind, and he trusted Aziraphale more than anything. There was no danger. He could-

_ They could have slipped something in, something Aziraphale doesn’t even know about, you don’t know, you can’t think, danger, danger- _

Crowley opened his eyes — when had he closed them? — and said, somewhat hoarsely, “Pause.”

Aziraphale was already dumping the bead back into his bag and leaning forward. “What do you need?”

“Take it off,” Crowley whispered. “Just for a minute. I don’t know-“

Aziraphale quickly unclasped the armband and pulled it away, far from Crowley, out of reach. “What is it?”

Crowley noted the disappearance of the tartan with a strange mixture of relief and disappointment. “Don’t know. Just...not safe, all of a sudden. Give me a minute.”

“Of course,” Aziraphale said. “Touch?”

Crowley shook his head, closing his eyes. The fuzziness was still there, fogging up his mind, mixing with the adrenaline that still seemed to be growing rather than going away. He breathed in, tried to remind himself that it was normal, the fuzziness, the fixation, it had nothing to do with factors outside of his control, it was all in his control, it was fine-

Only it  _ wasn’t _ in his control, because it was  _ still there, _ and he couldn’t shake it, and he needed- he had to curl up, protect himself, because something was wrong,  _ wrong- _

“Dolphin,” he whispered, the word coming to mind like a life raft, an out, the only way to tell Aziraphale this very important thing when all other words seemed to have deserted him, left him in this maelstrom of  _ feeling. _ “Dolphin, Aziraphale, I-”

“Yes,” Aziraphale said, and his voice was calm, an island to steer the raft to. “Very good.”

The rope on Crowley’s wrists disappeared.

“You may move your feet now,” Aziraphale said, still calm, solid, dependable. 

Crowley did. He pulled them up, crushing his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around them. A safe position. The panic faded a little.

After half a minute or so he reached out blindly until he hit Aziraphale’s knee, grabbing hold of it. Contact made, he half-opened his eyes and rolled closer until he could burrow into Aziraphale’s lap. 

“Touch?” Aziraphale asked again, voice close now, just above Crowley.

Crowley nodded, pulling his arms close to his chest, knees brushing Aziraphale’s. Aziraphale’s hands settled on his back, pressing down lightly, grounding but not constricting. After another minute they started to move, rubbing gentle circles into Crowley’s shirt.

Slowly, the panic faded, and with it, the fuzziness. The strongest fuzziness, at least. The remnants still lingered, but with the panic and the thickest fog gone he could recognize it, a safe thing. A good thing. 

He turned his head to nuzzle Aziraphale’s shirt. “Sorry.”

“Absolutely not,” Aziraphale said. “You did exactly right. I’m proud of you.”

Crowley took those words, let them settle into his bones, tried to feel them fully. Finally he nodded. 

Aziraphale ran his thumb across the back of Crowley’s neck. “Good job.”

Crowley shivered at the touch and snuggled closer. He knew, logically, that he’d done what he was supposed to. It was still good to hear.

He lay there for a long time, letting the world at large filter back into his awareness. The brief terror was gone, as was the lovely floaty focus of before it, and Crowley was tired. A part of him would have liked to go to sleep, safe and protected in Aziraphale’s lap, but he knew he had to check in properly first. 

Aziraphale nudged him gently. “Here. Drink some water.”

Crowley rolled over reluctantly and sat up just enough to take the cup Aziraphale was holding. It was a ridiculous thing, tall and made of black plastic with a lid and straw on top. A tiny snake figure wound around the straw. Under most circumstances, Crowley refused to use it. In this case, though, the straw was useful. And if he felt a hint of affection for the comical thing, well, that was his own business.

“Thanks,” he said, after he’d taken a few sips.

“How are you now?” Aziraphale asked. “I knew this one was likely to be intense, but it...took a turn I didn’t expect.”

“Neither did I,” Crowley said. “I’m okay.”

He could practically  _ feel _ Aziraphale relax. “I’m glad.” 

There was a moment of silence.

Then Aziraphale said, “I’m sorry. It was a bad idea.”

Crowley sat up very fast, and his head spun. He braced a hand on the bed. “It was not!”

“I rather consider something that ends up with you having a panic attack to be a bad idea,” Aziraphale pointed out, reaching over to steady Crowley.

“Was a  _ great _ idea,” Crowley argued, leaning his shoulder against Aziraphale’s. “I liked it. Liked the challenge. And stuff. The tartan was a nice touch.”

“Do you think so?” Aziraphale asked. “I didn’t want to overstep, but…”

“You didn’t,” Crowley assured him. “You put in lots of safeguards to make me feel safe. And make me  _ be _ safe. It’s not your fault that my alarm mechanism decided to kick in when it didn’t need to.”

Aziraphale took Crowley’s hand. “I still feel like I failed you.”

“Then I’ll keep telling you you didn’t. Look at it like this. What were you doing while I was having a good time?”

Aziraphale was silent.

“You were making a safe environment for me to do that,” Crowley continued, when it became clear Aziraphale wasn’t going to. “And hopefully having a pretty good time yourself…”

“I was,” Aziraphale admitted. “That part was good.”

“Exactly. And what did you do when I asked to pause?”

“I did,” Aziraphale whispered.

“And when I asked to stop?”

“I stopped.”

“You did,” Crowley agreed. “And you did it fast, and you made sure I was okay. Now where, exactly, does any of that count as you failing me?”

“You should never have had to ask to stop in the first place,” Aziraphale said stubbornly. “I should have-”

“Nuh uh,” Crowley interrupted. “You know that’s not how it works. You can’t predict these things, we know that by now. Do you remember when that fire truck drove by a few months ago? I see fire trucks practically every day, but for some reason that one...” He shivered slightly. Apparently it wasn’t a good time to think about past panic attacks.

“I suppose,” Aziraphale said reluctantly. “I still feel like I should have done something better.”

“That’s okay,” Crowley said. “But you know it wasn’t your fault.”

Aziraphale nodded. “I do. Logically.”

“Okay then.” Crowley leaned across Aziraphale and set his cup on the bedside table. “Now I want to talk about good things. But I want to lie down while we do it.”

“Demanding creature,” Aziraphale said, but there was a smile in his voice now. 

“Mhm.” Crowley pulled the quilt down and snuggled in under it. “Get over here.”

Aziraphale looked around the room. “Is the bag of beads and the rope being on the dresser going to be a problem in the morning?”

“I don’t think so,” Crowley said truthfully. “I’m okay now. Kind of want to try it again sometime, honestly.”

“Now  _ that _ is a topic for another day,” Aziraphale said, climbing under the covers beside Crowley. “But if you have favorite parts about today to mention, go ahead.”

Crowley rolled closer, resting his head on Aziraphale’s chest and weaving their legs together with a sigh. Aziraphale’s arms moved to lie along Crowley’s back, a loose, comforting weight. The last of the adrenaline began to ebb away, leaving him sleepy.

“I liked the challenge,” he said when they were settled. “I liked having the goal. The thing to pin my focus on, kind of.” He thought for a minute. “The color-changing effect on my clothes was cool. It was like, I was helping you do this thing to me because you asked me to and I trusted you to do it. If that makes any sense.”

“I think so,” Aziraphale murmured, running a hand up and down Crowley’s back.

Crowley hummed. “Other than that I think it was just the standard. Letting you tie me up is good. Trusting you to know what you’re doing is good. What about you?”

“I liked the usual things, obviously,” Aziraphale said slowly. “I liked testing to see how far you could reach, and watching you figure out each new obstacle. You’re fascinating when you’re focused, Crowley. I never stop feeling lucky to be able to make it happen.”

Crowley huffed out an amused breath. “Glad you think so.”

Aziraphale squeezed him. “I do. And...hm.”

Crowley waited a minute, but Aziraphale didn’t say anything more. “Okay, tell me. What are you thinking?”

Aziraphale sighed. “I liked the runes,” he admitted quietly. “Seeing you with my magic on you, trusting me not to take advantage of it…”

“You never would,” Crowley said softly.

_ “Never,” _ Aziraphale said emphatically. “But my point stands. It was...a very powerful moment for me.”

“Good,” Crowley said. “Making you feel good is good.”

“Not if it comes at the expense of you feeling good.”

“No,” Crowley agreed. “But it didn’t, not really. I said I liked it.  _ I’m _ the one who said I kind of want to try it again-”

“Which is still a discussion for another day-”

“I know, I know. But you get my point. This experiment made you happy. That’s good. It ended in a suboptimal way. We can change that. You can still have been happy before it.”

“Yes,” Aziraphale said. “All right. You’re really okay?”

Crowley nestled closer. “Little shaky still,” he admitted. “And I’m sleepy. But yeah.”

“Then sleep,” Aziraphale murmured above his head. “You’re safe.”

Crowley nodded, closing his eyes.

Aziraphale’s arms encased him, keeping him close and surrounded and, true to Aziraphale’s word,  _ safe.  _

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! Leave a comment if you have anything to say - it makes my day and really does help me want to write more.


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